7. Marlowe

Chapter 7

Marlowe

W ild stays beside me as the other man dismantles the tents. “What about my stuff? Clothes, those kinds of things. I’m gonna have nothing.” I look up at the man before me and take him in. Wild, if that’s even his name, has bleached blond hair, and hazel eyes that look more green in the firelight. He looks strong, and at least six feet tall. And he’s a murderer.

My eyes drift back over to my father and stepmother dead bodies. My heart hurts for losing my father…not so much my stepmother. Then, turning my head, I look at Ethan. My lower lip quivers as I take in his face. He’s not bloody like our parents. The man looks over his shoulder to where my eyes stay focused. He takes a deep breath before speaking.

“We may be killer’s chére, but we ain’t liars.”

Wild helps me regain my balance as I try to steady myself. The events of the past few hours swirl in my mind, making it hard to focus. I take a deep breath, trying to collect my thoughts.

“Ollie’s gon take care of Ethan,” Wild repeats, his voice filled with assurance.

“So, you’re Wild, and he’s Ollie,” I mumble, trying to process the information. Wild nods, a faint smile playing on his lips.

“Yeah, das right,” he confirms, his hazel eyes meeting mine. I can sense a flicker of vulnerability hidden beneath his tough exterior. “We been t’rough a lot together, Ollie and me. We had to do things we not proud of, but we always stick togeda.”

I can’t help but feel curious as I listen to Wild’s words. He’s a murderer, and yet here he is, helping me and assuring me that Ethan’s body will be taken care of and buried near the house. It’s a confusing contradiction that I can’t quite wrap my head around.

While the tents are being packed away and the campsite slowly disappears, I find myself lost in my thoughts. My father’s absence weighs heavily on my heart, overshadowing any grief I should feel for my stepmother. It’s a complicated tangle of emotions that I’m not ready to unravel just yet.

“Come on, let’s get moving,” Wild says, interrupting my thoughts. “Let’s get you home an clean you up. It’s early an I'm sure you could use some sleep.”

I nod, silently following Wild as we venture into the forest. My mind is still reeling from the events of tonight, but I know that I have to stay strong. I’ll try to escape and find my way back to town. I won’t live like this.

While walking into darkness, I wonder what this means. They wanted me, but why? They couldn’t find some local girl to have their kids? The events of the night have shattered my world, leaving me with a sense of uncertainty and a burning desire to escape this nightmare. I think back to my dreams and aspirations, the future I had envisioned for myself, and it all feels so distant now.

As we trudge through the darkness, I can’t help but wonder about Ollie. He’s the other brother, the one who will take care of Ethan’s body and ensure he’s properly buried. At least Ethan will have a proper farewell, even if our parents won’t.

“How.” Smack. “Ow. How much longer until we get to the house?” I swat at the mosquitos that are eating me alive. This forest ridiculously combines amazing trees, swamp areas, and absolutely breathtaking nature. I want to get out of it as quickly as possible. I feel disgusting. My clothes are sticking to my skin and I’m pretty sure I smell like something died.

“We’ll reach da house soon, maybe five minutes,” Wild says, stepping over a falling tree. “Come now, you is slower dan dirt.”

“Dirt doesn’t move on its own, asshole.” I scoff, stopping completely and standing there with my hands on my hips.

“My poin’ exactly.” He turns around and scoops me up into his arms. “We probably woulda made it back faster if I’da jus carried your ass back.”

I scrunch up my face as he holds me to his chest, cradling me in his arms. If it weren’t for the current situation, I would consider him quite attractive. He played a part in murdering my family. Not to mention the minor fact that now he's one of my captors.

You could have run, Lowe. But ya didn’t. Now what does that say about you?

That I’m a dumb bitch that didn’t pay attention to the horror flicks.

“Don’ be tinking too hard in dat head of yours. I can smell your hair burnin’” He chuckles, he smiles down at me and the dimples in his cheeks appear right above where the mask sits.

Fuck, he’s probably cute under there.

No. Stop it, do not sexualize a murderer.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I tense up, feeling the warmth of his body against mine, and try to push away any thoughts of attraction. This man is dangerous, and I need to remember that. I need to escape from him.

I chastise myself for even considering him cute, reminding myself over and over that he is a murderer. Frustrated with my thoughts, I try to distract myself by focusing on our surroundings, hoping to find an opportunity to escape. I refuse to let his charm sway me or blind me to the dangerous allure he presents. I need to stay strong and find a way out of this.

“Home sweet home, chére,” Wild says, just as the back of a decent-sized house comes into view. Off to the left is a barn or workshop, and way off to the right of the house near some trees is a wrought-iron gate and headstones. He points over to the headstones. “We’ll put your brother dere. Dat way, you can visit him as much as you like once we is sure you won’t run away.”

“What makes you think I won’t try to run?” I ask.

Wild chuckles, his grip on me tightening slightly. “Oh, I know you’ll try, chére. Trust me when I say dis, it won’t end well for you if you do.” His words send a shiver down my spine, reminding me of the danger I’m in.

As we approach the house, I take in the surroundings, searching for any opportunity. The house itself looks old and worn, with peeling paint and broken windows. This place has seen better days. The barn or workshop to the left seems to be in a similar state of disrepair.

“I may only be eighteen, but I’m not as na?ve as you think,” I retort, my voice laced with defiance. “I’ll find a way out of here, and when I do, you won’t be able to stop me.”

Wild’s smile falters for a moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. But just as quickly, it’s replaced with a cold, calculating expression.

“We’ll see about dat,” he says, his voice dripping with a dangerous edge. “But for now, let’s focus on settlin' in. You not going anywhere.”

As we enter the house, my mind races with thoughts of escape. I know it won’t be easy, but I refuse to give up. I will free myself from this nightmare. And I will do whatever it takes to survive and make them pay for what they've done.